


Ruin Your Night

by Meloyelox (PastelBlueDahlia)



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Coming Out, First Kiss, M/M, Making Out, Secret Crush, a sprinkle of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 16:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBlueDahlia/pseuds/Meloyelox
Summary: It’s so much more cruel to deny him something he has tried than deny him something he has never known.- - -Shorter and Ash make out at a party





	Ruin Your Night

Shorter‘s hand lies in the curve of a woman‘s waist. She giggles, her hand over her mouth like she doesn‘t want him to see her smile or hear her laugh – as if he could when the music is booming like that. It‘s a wonder he‘s even able to think.

She pulls him close at the base of his neck, a little bossy, and his blood warms up to her hands, the way it always does. She says things that would make her blush by daylight. Shorter grabs her waist a little tighter as he loses his footing a little and staggers against the solid brick wall behind him. She follows, squeals like he told a joke.

Shorter knows this little game. She‘ll always pretend to be drunker than him but by tomorrow morning, while Shorter is still lying in bed, the music from the night before carved into the inside of his skull, she‘ll already be showered and give him the next coupon of the little burger place she works at. He‘ll promise her that _this time_ he‘ll come around. And then he’ll drop the coupon under his bed and pretend to forget about it.

There are several reasons why he doesn't go- one would be that giving her false hope would be cruel. He made it clear from their first night what he wanted and she told him multiple times she would be okay with it, but he‘s rather safe than sorry. Another reason is that he has no luck in love or relationships. He’ll probably meet Ash when he’s on his way or something and there aren't many things he can think of that would be worse than this.

He knows how that conversation would go: Ash will wonder why he’s in that part of town and Shorter won’t be able to lie and Ash, who can be such a brat sometimes, will tease him about his “date”. Shorter will deny it’s a date and that's _exactly_ why Ash will tease him even more and suggest to come with him since it’s not a “date”.

Because he knows Ash and how he can‘t pass up an opportunity like this, Shorter knows Ash will probably make it as awkward as possible because he thinks it’s funny. Until like, 5 minutes in and he’ll feel terrible for being such a bad friend.

His secret crush asking his sex friend about what Shorter does in bed would be so embarrassing he would disintegrate.

Shorter looks past her shoulder as she talks - he can barely hear her. Ash is sitting at the same seating booth they arrived at a few hours ago, his arms crosses. Even here, he looks terribly serious like he knows about some disaster that’s happening in the streets, only waiting for it to find its way in here.

He doesn't understand Ash most of the time. But when he hears others talk about him he realizes that “most of the time“ is still better than not understanding him at all. Shorter must be the only person who can at least push aside the enigma facade Ash likes to put on and see a human behind it.

The dancing crowd spits out two girls, their hair teased into fluffy clouds, lipstick on their teeth as they laugh and hold onto each other. One of them plops down at the booth next to Ash, her hand on his shoulder.

They’re harmless, Shorter can tell and he knows that Ash can tell. But he can’t help looking, can't help but try to make out if Ash’s features are somehow distorted, if he’s just pretending to chat with them or if he’s actually uncomfortable. Ash doesn’t send any signals even though Shorter hopes he will. That hope iis already a clear indicator what he really wants to do.

Shorter swears in his head as he unlatches the girl from him and moves to the seating booth, hating himself for doing it but at the same time not being able to get there fast enough.

The girls notice him, share a look with each other and get up. Shorter sits down next to Ash, feels the leather under his fingers squeak. He feels awful and determined not to let Ash know.

“How you doin’ hot stuff?“ he asks and raises one eyebrow. Ash huffs out a laugh, uncrosses his arms and it thrills Shorter in a way that's concerning.

“Are you hitting on me because that girl didn‘t want you?”

“I could have 100 girls hotter than her,” he says and expects Ash to hit him, but when he looks at him he finds Ash is already looking right back at him.

“And yet you're talking to me,“ he says in that mock surprise voice and _god_. He really wants to hit him – so he does. It ends up way softer and more playful than intended but Shorter blames the liquor.

“Don't make it gay,“ he says and is sure Ash didn't hear him because he takes so long to answer. Shorters neck burns like a rash is climbing up his skin.

“Ugh, _please_ ,“ Ash says and rolls his eyes, and a little smile is breaking trough that makes Shorter’s head feel like a goldfish bowl, “You couldn't stop looking at me,“ he says and it’s so obviously a joke. It’s something they did hundreds of times, that's just the way they talk to each other but in this moment it rubs Shorter the wrong way.

He blurts out “I’m not gay“ before he realizes why this time, it’s so different and why this time he feels like he really needs to make sure that Ash understands and leaves him alone with it. It’s the fear. He's fucking scared Ash will read his mind and know what filthy, disgusting things he makes him do in his mind, things like moan his name or cup his balls or even more horrendous than any other fantasy: tell him he's the only one for him.

He feels the blush creep up his neck and settle on his cheeks and the silence between them and the loudness around them is too much so he decides to make it even worse. “I like woman. I like big tits,“ he says and wants to smash a bottle against his head to make him stop talking.

“But you somehow ditched the woman of your dreams to have a little chat with your best friend,“ Ash says and his words cut now and Shorter wishes he wouldn't be drunk and wouldn't have taken Ash here.

“Shorter,“ Ash says, his cool hand in the crook of his arm. Their hands really don’t look good next to each other. “You really think that you're straight?“ he asks, his bright eyebrows drawn together, disbelief painfully evident. If Ash knows, then maybe he also knows what Shorter feels?

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, doesn't give a fuck about his hairspray which must mean he’s _really_ fucked.

“I am _straight_. I jerk off to woman.“

Shorter has probably never been this ashamed of himself in his entire life. He always envisioned the moment Ash would know, and he had wished for courage. He had thought of the relief if Ash knew about that. But now there’s nothing but the sound of his blood in his ears and that sick feeling in his stomach and he wishes he could reset time.

“Oh Shorter,“ Ash says, like he’s talking to a petulant child, “You're literally jerking off to anything you think is pretty. Haven't you noticed that?“

“Stop it,“ Shorter begs, quietly, hands flexing on his thighs and he hates how seethrough he is. It reminds him of the jellyfish he had seen on the beach once with his sister. Shorter had seen pictures of those delicate, graceful creatures. But what he had found then was nothing but a slick pile of cells, its few organs visible through its see through exterior.

If Ash wanted he wouldn't even have to put in much effort to hurt Shorter. All his weak spots are visible now-

Ash is silent and some part of Shorter hopes he didn't hear anything. When he opens his eyes again it’s like someone had switched on a light, it’s so much brighter than before. He turns his head, Ash with his sunglasses on his nose. They look a little too big for his small face. He looks like a diva and Shorter can barely look at him. His reflection is so clear and it hurts to look into his own pained, desperate face.

“Should I help you out? Just to test which way you swing.“

The heat is already at his ears and if it’s going on like this his brain will fry.

“Ash. Stop.“ he says strict but the effect it’s supposed to have is completely shattered because his damn voice breaks. Ash moves closer, his hand on Shorter’s cheek. His hand is so cool Shorter is scared of how good it feels and how the spot below his navel grows hot.

“You know I wouldn't hate you if you were gay, right?“ Ash asks. In the reflection of the glasses Shorter can only see himself, his desperation laid out just like that. Ash takes the glasses off, and seeing his face like this is even worse. “I know you wouldn't hurt me,“ he says and moves closer until he can’t come closer anymore.

Shorter has imaged kissing Ash for a long time. He had thought of soft pecks most of the time since that was something he could recreate with the back of his hand before he had tried doing it with women. That pseudo memory is ingrained so deeply into his brain he's almost surprised as the kiss just goes on and on and Ash presses further in, his hand on Shorter’s naked knee.

There's a knot in his throat. He feels like crying without knowing why. He feels so damn much for Ash and he wants him to know, wants him to understand. He opens his mouth, tastes the sweet remnants of coke on Ash’s bottom lip. Ash’s hand come around Shorter’s shoulders, his cheek, his neck, fluttering like he doesn't know what to do with them. There's a slight vibration in his mouth and he knows that came from Ash. And that pain is back and it’s good and he twitches and he wants to run his tongue over all of Ash’s teeth, make sure they’re all there, wants to dissect every drink he had.

Ash’s mouth is wet and loose, lets Shorter do what he wants, and it’s so fucking good, _fuck,_ Shorter knew it. If Ash had been a little worse than he was in his imagination then maybe Shorter could have let go.

But how on earth is he supposed to joke around with him and complain about Ash wearing shoes indoors when he knows the soft opening of his mouth, when he knows how Ash holds onto him, knows about all the important things now.

It’s so much more cruel to deny him something he has tried than deny him something he has never known.

They part, and Ash’s eyes are shut. Ash opens them the way he wakes up, and blinks up at him, gives him a hint of a smile like he’s not back in reality. Shorter can't blame him.

He pants, cups Ash’s cheek like he's about to break. His thumb traces the outline of his lips. He wants to ingrain this into memory, wants to replay this exact moment over and over again. Shorter looks for a proof that his lips have been there, but they look exactly like always. Ash bites his thumb with squinted eyes and wide mouth and Shorter laughs way harder than he should.

 

_Fuck._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Doesn't post in months  
> Also me: Oh wow I like this art but you know what would make this even better  
> A Little  
> Angst :)
> 
> The art I'm talking about is [this](https://sevenflats.tumblr.com/post/185060239325/reddit-thread-title-me-17-m-and-my-best-friend) gorgeous piece please reblog the artist they're amazing okay bye now


End file.
